The Chase
by Rinne
Summary: Don and Coop chase a fugitive. COMPLETE


Title: The Chase  
Genre: Gen  
Rating: PG-13  
Characters: Don, Billy Cooper  
Spoilers: 1.13 Man Hunt, set before the start of the series  
Warnings: None  
Challenge: lj comm hurt_don prompt 25: what: water, where: anywhere  
Word count: 1089  
Disclaimer: Own nothing, not being paid.

A/N: Thank you to krazykitkat, pixie_on_acid and starrylizard for the beta. Any mistakes are mine alone. I think that this may well be the first time that I've written Coop.

Summary: Don and Coop chase a fugitive.

* * *

Don vaulted over the fence and hit the ground at a dead run. O'Connell was still too far ahead of him. A dog barked at him from an adjacent yard, growls and barks growing more frantic and aggressive. The wooden fence vibrated from the force of it trying to get to him.

"Give it up, O'Connell!" Don shouted. O'Connell hadn't stopped when Don had pointed his gun at the fugitive, if he had Don wouldn't have had to chase him to begin with.

Of course the fugitive ignored him, scrambling over the brick wall that divided the yard from the one next door. Don made it over quickly, with none of the awkwardness of the man ahead of him. O'Connell was starting to slow down, not used to this much physical exertion, whereas Don still had plenty left in him. It didn't stop Don from wondering where Coop was and why he hadn't cut O'Connell off yet, though.

There were lots of children's toys to dodge in the new yard, a tricycle that had been abandoned on its side, a plastic cubby house, and a large trampoline. O'Connell glanced back at him, fear evident in his eyes when he realised how close Don was to him, before jumping over the next fence. Don followed, reducing the fugitive's lead further.

O'Connell was finally in arm's reach and Don reached out to pull him to the ground, fingertips entwined in the flannel of his sleeve. O'Connell staggered, but managed to wrench free, twisting and burning Don's fingers with the friction. Don pushed himself, legs protesting, and this time managed to get a better hold. O'Connell twisted, and instead of them falling forwards as Don intended, they fell to the side on the grass. The struggle was frantic; O'Connell elbowed Don in the stomach and hit out at every part of Don he could reach. After a few blows to Don's head forced him backwards, O'Connell made it to his feet. Don followed, feeling slightly woozy, this time tackling the man forward.

It wasn't until they were both falling that Don saw the pool right in front of them. He twisted, not letting go, so that O'Connell wouldn't be underneath him. Hitting the water was like running into a wall; it drove all the breath from his lungs. O'Connell was thrashing around in his grip, pulling him down further. Letting go of him, Don surfaced, taking ragged breaths and spitting out the water in his mouth. O'Connell bobbed up a foot away from him, closer to the side of the pool than Don was, and started swimming towards escape.

"Oh, no you don't," Don panted, swimming to head him off. They grappled when Don got in range and O'Connell pulled him under the water. Don kicked free and re-surfaced, lungs bursting for air.

Another brief struggle and pain exploded through the back of Don's head, like someone had driven an ice pick into it. Dazed and fighting to stay conscious, blackness started to edge in to his vision. His legs forgot to tread water and he slipped back under the surface, primal fear starting to explode through his gut. His back bumped against something hard and smooth and as his eyes closed, the blackness won.

* * *

Billy ran along the side of the house, easily jumping the gate that closed off the yard. He almost ran into O'Connell, and quickly flipped him around and against the weathered yellow boarding on the side of the house.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, with a grin as he cuffed the fugitive. He pulled a resisting O'Connell with him around the edge of the house and further into the yard, grimacing at the wetness of the man's clothes. How exactly that had happened, he wanted to know. "Losing your touch, Don?" he asked, fully expecting to see a pissed off and possibly soaked Don standing in the yard. "What the-"

There was nobody there. Billy scanned the yard, focusing last on the pool. It would explain the fugitive's wet clothes. "Oh, shit." Shoving O'Connell roughly to the ground he growled, "Don't even think about moving, because I'll quite happily blow your brains out right now."

Dropping his cell on the tile at the edge of the pool, Billy jumped into the water near the dark shape at the bottom. Swimming down, eyes open and stinging, he grabbed Don by the shoulders and pushed as quickly as he could back up to the surface. It was the deep end of the pool, deep enough that he couldn't stand up, so Billy quickly lifted Don's limp body up onto the tile at the side of the pool, rolling him away from the edge, before climbing out, water streaming off him.

Don's heart was still beating, but he wasn't breathing. Billy scooped up the phone, and called for help, shouting the address into the phone and the need for an ambulance and back up in between trying to breathe for Don.

O'Connell hadn't tried to move an inch.

* * *

"Hey."

At Coop's gravelly voice, Don summoned up a smile, putting the magazine he'd been reading down. "Hey."

"I know we both needed a bath, Donnie, but couldn't you have found a less dramatic way to have one?"

"Yeah, yeah." Don rolled his eyes. "Don't think that you were my idea of princess charming, either. Not my first choice to give me the kiss of life. Too much stubble and not enough curves."

A slow smile developed. "Fair enough. How's the head?" Coop asked, sprawling in the chair beside Don's bed.

"Sore." It had required stitches and left him with a splitting headache and blurry vision.

"I can imagine. I found the blood on the edge of the pool. You must have hit it pretty hard."

"Yeah. You get O'Connell?"

"Yep."

Coop looked away, uncomfortable for some reason.

"What?"

"I wasn't sure..." Coop sighed slightly. "Whether you wanted me to call your folks. I didn't."

"It's not like I was dying," Don said lightly. "They don't need to know every little bump and scratch."

"I guess not," Coop agreed. "Anyway, most of the paperwork is done, we just need your statement. It can wait a couple of days, though."

"Thanks." Don hoped that Coop knew that it wasn't just for sorting out all the paperwork. The way they worked, he probably did.

Coop nodded slightly. "Don't mention it." He grinned, mischievous. "And I'll make sure I shave first next time. I'm sure that the brain damage will be worth it."

Don laughed.

-FIN-


End file.
